


Sun and Moon

by WataruHibiki



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, If you like hookers with a heart of gold this is for you, M/M, this is literally just Miss Saigon if you know it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 19:32:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15758235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WataruHibiki/pseuds/WataruHibiki
Summary: How did I end up here again? Camus thought to himself as he looked at his surroundings. The bar was dusty, dark, and dreary, and the odor of sweat, cheap perfume, and booze pervaded the room. He worked for Permafrost’s embassy in Japan, trying to help maintain stable relations since several nations around the two have started falling into war. He had other matters to take care of. Now was a critical time, and he had paperwork to fill out, phone calls to make, and meetings to attend the next day. Yet, when his coworker, a Japanese ambassador who he was assigned to work with, Kurosaki Ranmaru, told him he needed to “let loose a little” and “stop being a literal stick in the mud”, he silently agreed and followed him to this location.





	Sun and Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Basically this is based off the song Sun and Moon from Miss Saigon, one of my favorite musicals. I'll link it in case you're curious, but I don't expect anyone to actually listen to it. I know when people link songs I normally ignore it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F3gUyn-bgRc . Also this is the first fic I've written since middle school, so sorry if it's not great. I just love this ship and really wanted to contribute to the tag since there isn't a ton of camai content.

How did I end up here again? Camus thought to himself as he looked at his surroundings. The bar was dusty, dark, and dreary, and the odor of sweat, cheap perfume, and booze pervaded the room. He worked for Permafrost’s embassy in Japan, trying to help maintain stable relations since several nations around the two have started falling into war. He had other matters to take care of. Now was a critical time, and he had paperwork to fill out, phone calls to make, and meetings to attend the next day. Yet, when his coworker, a Japanese ambassador who he was assigned to work with, Kurosaki Ranmaru, told him he needed to “let loose a little” and “stop being a literal stick in the mud”, he silently agreed and followed him to this location.

“Kurosaki,” Camus finally asked, speaking up for the first time since they entered the bar, “What is this place?”

“What does it look like?” Kurosaki then took a swig of some beer, before placing the mug down on the counter, making a loud ‘clink’ noise.

“But why did you ta—”

“Ya really need to stop asking so many questions. Jesus, why don’t you ever relax? I don’t think I’ve ever seen ya take a break, enjoy yourself ya know? It’s weird. You’re like an actual robot. Wake up, breakfast, go to work, lunch, work, dinner, work, sleep. You can’t tell me you traveled all this way to not even try something new while you’re in a different place?”

“I take my work very seriously.”

“You’re kidding me” Kurosaki then threw his head back and let out a laugh. Then he tapped on the counter to get the bartender’s attention. “I’m going to need a round for my friend here…” he said as he smacked Camus on the back, causing Camus to tense up, “and you’ll probably need to keep ‘em coming…”

“So you intended to take me out drinking? That’s all? If those were your motives, we could have easily had some wine at the embassy—”

“No…I am so sick of having to sip that stuff, feign poise, and down entire glasses without even getting tipsy. There’s something about the crude, cheap stuff that really hits the spot. Try it.”

The bartender filled a mug of beer which resembled the one Kurosaki had started and slid it down the counter towards Camus. The blonde man then caught it with his left hand, noticing how the drink felt slightly chilled, but still not cold. Then, he brought the glass to his lips and took a tentative sip. Bitter. That was his initial reaction. He choked it down to the best of his ability, but, in comparison to the aged wines and light, sweet cocktails he was accustomed to having at soirees and banquets, this was hard to swallow.

“God, you are a riot. You look so uncomfortable; it’s fine. Relaaax. Maybe you won’t be as tense when the show starts…” Kurosaki mused to himself, teasing his drink yet again.

“Show…? What do you mean by that?” And then, music, with a hint of static, began blaring from the speakers, and Kurosaki pointed at the small stage, with maroon curtains dull and slightly tattered at the edges. And as they raised the curtain, Camus's jaw dropped.

“You brought me to a STRIP club?”

“I did not bring you to a _strip_ club! You can also pay for some _company_ ‘ere”

“We should leave immediately. This is inappropriate. If we’re seen here—”

“Can it. Jeez Camus, calm down. Look around you.”

And following Ranmaru’s words, Camus’s eyes panned the room. Most of the people there seemed to be businessmen of some sort, dressed in suits and many appearing much older than either Camus and his counterpart. A few were loosening their ties and settling in. There seemed to be a few groups of coworkers happily drinking with their faces red and their arms around each other’s necks, spouting all sorts of profanities.

“Well, regardless of the makeup of this group, this is not a place where two _government_ officials should be.” Camus chided.

“Camus. Listen. We both know that things are falling apart, and negotiations aren’t working the way we both originally planned. This is probably going to be one of your last nights in town. This is your last chance to lose yourself a lil’ before you go home. C’mon, you always act with a sorta fake politeness, and it pisses me off.” Ranmaru took another gulp of his beer. “To be honest, I just… kinda wanna see what you’re really like when you know no one’s watchin’ ya.”

Camus rolled his eyes. Though he knew what Ranmaru meant about it being likely that his time in Japan was nearing its end, he still didn’t feel completely comfortable in this bleak place. But somehow, through the dark and through the music and hollering in the club, something caught his attention. There appeared to be a scuffle between a patron and one of the bar workers.

Camus could feel his breath hitch as he eyed the worker. The worker appeared to be a young, androgynous male. Although there was hardly any light in this place, the man’s half-tied up, cyan hair and similarly colored eyes seemed to give him almost an angelic glow. Camus couldn’t help but notice how that his locks seemed to cascade down his head, gently framing his soft features. And the ‘outfit’ he adorned appeared to be a nearly sheer, short, sleeveless, Asian-style white dress with side slits that ran up his thighs. Besides the obvious show of skin, there was something about him that kept Camus’s eyes locked on him. Even in this dimly lit hole in the wall joint that was bustling with plenty of other eye candy and noise, he couldn’t help but watch him.

But Camus didn’t have much time to ponder on why he found him so captivating because at that moment a very inebriated customer raised a hand towards Camus’s current person of interest, and instinctively, Camus got up to his feet and moved. Despite the lack of light, despite Ranmaru’s yells of confusion, and despite his timidity before, Camus moved.

 

* * *

 

It was his first night here and things were already going awry. Ai figured that this sort of job gets easier with some experience, but he was dumbfounded as to how to handle the situation that faced him. This was supposed to be a simple task: take the orders of customers and deliver them their drinks and food. But soon, he found himself being shoved around and felt up by some clients in the bar. Unsure of the best way to deal with all this unwanted attention, Ai attempted to push some of them off him, only to accidentally spill a drink on one of them in the process. Ai could feel the mood drop as the faces of the clients grew from joking to angry. Preparing himself for the worst, he tried to guard his face with his arms. Then he suddenly felt an arm snake around his waist. And though he heard the slap of the impact that the enraged customer’s hand should have brought onto him, he felt no pain.

Ai slowly lowered his arms to figure out what had happened. He soon discovered that someone had intervened. Looking up at his savior, Ai grew more curious. He was a tall blonde man who appeared to be foreign. He was dressed rather well with a crisp button down, tie, and slacks. Then as the crowd of drunk men who had previously surrounded Ai dissipated, Ai could feel the man’s grip on him loosen.

“Are you alright? I apologize if I startled you.” The man’s deep voice resonated in Ai’s ears. This man was used to speaking in front of others. Ai could tell by the way he delivered his words: clearly, precisely, and efficiently.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” Ai responded, brushing off his dress and distancing himself slightly from the man. “I’m sorry if this whole ordeal inconvenienced you.”

Then without another word Ai bowed slightly to the patron and rushed off, not wanting to make more of a scene than the pair already had and not looking back at the man who had assisted him. Ai made a beeline to the backroom before he was stopped by his boss.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I wanted to go to the backroom to just dust myself off for a second before resuming my work, sir.” Ai replied as politely as he could, by the frown on his boss’s face he could tell that he was unhappy.

“Do you know who you just ran into back there?”

“The foreigner? No, I didn’t ask for his name…” Ai then felt a thump on the back of his head as his boss smacked him.

“That’s a foreign ambassador. You imbecile! I can’t believe you just walked away from him like that! A man like that is bound to be loaded and you just left?”

“I wasn’t aware of this. I—”

“Shut up. I don’t care about your apologies right now. Just go back to him and reel him in. He’s clearly interested in you. Now seal the deal.” Ai felt himself being pushed back in the direction he had just came from. “GO!” His boss moved him along until he bumped right into the back of the man from earlier.

 

* * *

 

Camus watched as the mystery man scurried away. He considered calling out to him again but that would have been pathetic, right? So instead of pursuing the enchanting stranger, he walked back over to where Kurosaki was. The smug look on Ranmaru’s face was enough to make Camus’s blood boil.

“So… _who_ was that?” Ranmaru teased as he watched Camus tense up.

“No one in particular. It just seemed like he needed some assistance. It was the right thing to do.” Camus declared.

“Really? You. Going out of your way to help someone. When it doesn’t benefit you or Permafrost.” Ranmaru then took a sip from the glass he was holding with the same shiteating grin that frustrated Camus before. “Anyhow. I wasn’t born yesterday. And I’m not drunk enough to believe that excuse. You _like_ him, don’t you?”

“Don’t be absurd. I assure you it’s nothing.”

“Uh huh. Cut the bullshit man. You think I didn’t notice you ogling him while you were talking to me before? Want to spend the night with that pretty little thing? Honestly, I find this insanely amusing. C’mon I’ll even pay for you. Think of it as a going away gift.” Ranmaru then did a suggestive hand motion that involved inserting his index finger into the side of his fist, which made Camus sick.

“You’ve got to be joking, right? You’re a grown man. Please, act like it.” Camus shook his head in disbelief before he felt a soft thud against his back. He swiftly turned around to see what had hit him. His eyes widened as he realized it was that guy from before.

“I’m sorry. Please excuse me.” He said as Camus turned faced him. He didn’t seem like he wanted to meet Camus’s gaze, but suddenly he blurted out. “I just realized… I never got your name!”

“Camus.” He tried to regain his composure before asking, “And what would yours be?”

“Mikaze Ai.”

“Well, Mikaze—”

“Please just call me Ai.”

“Ai, it’s nice to see that you seem okay.”

“It’s rather nice to see you okay too, Camus.” Ai said as he slowly let his hand teasingly inch up Camus’s arm. All Ai could hear in his head was his orders of ‘reel him in’ and ‘seal the deal’. But suddenly Camus jerked his arm away from Ai’s touch, causing Ai to jump back as well which resulted in knocking a glass off the counter. Ai attempted to catch it, but it slipped through his fingers, shattering on the ground.

“What’s the big idea here?” The familiar voice gave Ai chills. It was his boss.

“It’s nothing, sir. I was just leaving.” Then the boss roughly grabbed Ai’s arm preventing him from shuffling out.

“What’s wrong?” The manager said calling out to Camus while turning Ai around, so he faced Camus once again. “Do you not like him?” Then the boss stroked the top of Ai’s head.

“It’s not like that I dislike him necessarily. I just—” Camus attempted to reply before getting cut off again.

“Then I don’t see a problem here! You have fine taste, my man. This is little Ai’s first night here.” He then shoved Ai towards Camus, making him fall into Camus’s chest. “He’s fresh. Untouched.”

The disgusting way the man described and handled Ai infuriated Camus. It was surely no way to treat a person. So, he wrapped a protective arm around Ai’s smaller shoulders. And to stop the persistent badgering of the owner, Camus spoke,“Fine. I _like_ him.” He admitted this as he wondered how someone like Ai ended up in a place like this, only to have his train of thought be interrupted by Ranmaru snickering behind him.

“Then whisk him away for the night.” The owner of the place suggested. Before Camus could respond, he felt a small, cool hand grab his.

“Come with me.” Ai said plainly as he glanced at his boss for approval.

Camus wanted to stop Ai. To tell him that this wasn’t his intention. But then he felt a slap on the back from Ranmaru. He turned his head back only to see Ranmaru wink at him with that same, dumb expression from before and pull out his wallet to pay the owner for Ai’s “services” most likely. Everything moved so quickly and before he knew it, Camus was being lead up the stairs to a dusty little room with a chair, bed, lamp, and bedside table. Ai shut the door behind them. Then with small, speedy steps, he made his way over to the bed, sat down, began to unbutton the front of the dress he wore.

“That’s not necessary.” Camus said, breaking the silence of the room.

“What do you mean?” Ai tilted his head, perplexed.

Camus met Ai on the bed and sat down next to him which made a loud creak. He then grasped Ai’s face between his index finger and thumb and looked straight into his eyes. Those light blue eyes that matched the color of his hair were like mirrors. Through them, Camus could feel the vulnerability of the moment, of Ai, and of himself.

“You know you don’t have to do this.” When Camus spoke, it was in a low whisper and it made Ai shiver.

“But you said you liked me. Were you lying?”

“I do. I mean, it wasn’t a lie.”

“Then why are you hesitating?” Ai queried, trying to understand Camus’s motives.

“Because you don’t want this.”

“Who ever said that?” Then Ai leaned closer and grabbed Camus by the tie, pulling him down into a soft kiss.

 

* * *

 

The scent of citrus, the feeling of Ai’s cool skin against his own, and the way Ai's lips melted onto Camus’s mouth were the last things Camus could remember before he sank into the sheets.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for getting this far! I might post a part two which will probably be a little spicier than this chapter, if any of you guys are interested in one. If you want to talk to me about camai on twitter I am @chuuyanakaharas.


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